How Soon Is Now?
There's this Sex and the City episode where Carrie's whining about Big and her friends are staring at her with bored, glazed expressions.
"What?" she asks, faltering a little, finally picking up on the dead silence.
They tell her she should go seek professional help, which she quickly dismisses.
Why go to a shrink when she has her friends, she asks?
Samantha gives it to her straight: "Honey, we're just as fucked up as you are. It's like the blind leading the blind."
Sometimes, that's how I feel when my friends and I are trying to dissect a guy's behaviour post-date. It gets to a point where I have to wonder, "What the fuck do we know?" Essentially, don't we just ignore the cold hard facts when we're not all that interested in facing them? Don't we just make excuses when we hope that the glaring signs of rejection and disinterest are wrong? Could it be that we just love living in a state of denial?
The thing is, as soon as we meet someone we're even the least bit interested in, we cling to the hope that maybe this time, it'll work out. Because, let's face facts: nobody really wants to be alone. OK. Maybe some of us do, but 95% of us just want to pair off and procreate and live happily ever after.
So, here's the thing: why is it so hard to shake hope off?
Our rational brain tells us that something is a moot cause, but the old heart keeps pumping away, stubbornly clinging to the remote possibility that reason and logic and cold hard facts are showing us that it's better to shove off and move on.
And why is it that time's about the only thing that can cure us of this misery? Good old time which eventually dulls the hurts and pains and wipes the slate clean for our hearts to be stomped on all over again?
"What?" she asks, faltering a little, finally picking up on the dead silence.
They tell her she should go seek professional help, which she quickly dismisses.
Why go to a shrink when she has her friends, she asks?
Samantha gives it to her straight: "Honey, we're just as fucked up as you are. It's like the blind leading the blind."
Sometimes, that's how I feel when my friends and I are trying to dissect a guy's behaviour post-date. It gets to a point where I have to wonder, "What the fuck do we know?" Essentially, don't we just ignore the cold hard facts when we're not all that interested in facing them? Don't we just make excuses when we hope that the glaring signs of rejection and disinterest are wrong? Could it be that we just love living in a state of denial?
The thing is, as soon as we meet someone we're even the least bit interested in, we cling to the hope that maybe this time, it'll work out. Because, let's face facts: nobody really wants to be alone. OK. Maybe some of us do, but 95% of us just want to pair off and procreate and live happily ever after.
So, here's the thing: why is it so hard to shake hope off?
Our rational brain tells us that something is a moot cause, but the old heart keeps pumping away, stubbornly clinging to the remote possibility that reason and logic and cold hard facts are showing us that it's better to shove off and move on.
And why is it that time's about the only thing that can cure us of this misery? Good old time which eventually dulls the hurts and pains and wipes the slate clean for our hearts to be stomped on all over again?
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